“It’s snowing…I will trade you a pregnancy test for a roll of toilet paper.”
Let no one ever say New England girls ain’t classy.
I'm the book that beat the speed-reader, and I'm the card the dealers won't touch. And it's just not true I'm a man-eater; all the same, we should probably go dutch.
The things you pick up as you go.
It was a music video from Turquoise Jeep productions (that colossus of class and good taste,) called “Fried or Fertilized,” and other than the fact that I find the word “fertilized” absolutely vile, I had some idea of the direction that they were going with that noun (which I was correct about). Anyhow, as it had to do with both his twin loves of breakfast foods and what could tentatively be called rap, I decided the boy needed to see it.
His response? “Haha. At first glance, I thought it read: Yung Hummus.”
I am now fully OBSESSED with the idea of a young vegan rapper called Yung Hummus who is environmentally conscious and wears Birkenstocks and writes angry rhymes about injecting chickens with hormones (in an un-ironic way that most rappers would talk about spurting chicks full of pimp juice).
Class of 2011 Professional Writer’s Capstone Retreat— A working/playing thesis retreat in Jericho. Otherwise known as, drinking beer and gossiping with your professors, cooking a meal for 12, and doing real deep thinking about real deep things, like what Maxim is possibly trying to say about the relationship between men and women by running the headline “Become a God…In Bed,” and the best way to build a bonfire.
I would kill small animals to have hot water in our apartment right now.
I thought I left this bullshit behind in Italy.
Nontheless, here’s the tried-and-true Country Girl’s Shower (don’t make me explain how I know this— it involves an entire summer spent without a hot water heater while Dad DIYed):
1.) Find the biggest pot in your house.
2.) Fill it almost the entire way with water.
3.) Bring it to a near boil on the stove.
4.) Grab a tall plastic cup, a sponge or washcloth, and your scalding pot of water, and proceed to your (now largely ornamental) shower.
5.) Fill cup from hot water. Pour over your head. Lather with shampoo.
6.) While your body’s wet, go ahead and soap down, too.
7.) Fill cup again— rinse body and hair.
8.) Repeat steps 5-7 with conditioner.
9.) Dump the rest of the remaining water in the pot over your entire body.
10.) Bemoan your existence and feel a certain kindred-ness with those in third-world countries. Shiver.
Baaaaaaaahhhhhhhh. Fuck life. I really wish I didn’t need to shave this badly, or was more ok with looking like a granola-crunchy, tree-hugging furry bitch.
But I have a landing strip to maintain.
Vermont Girls. Gotta love us. What walking paradoxes!
I have been flirting with this guy in my Entrepreneurship class for the last 2 hours. He told me to friend him on Facebook, and I just creeped him to see what his deal was, interests (outside of this class, making money, and business, of course), and if he was single.
…He’s friends with the most recent failed relationship partner and all of his friends.
I don’t want to know how they know each other.
It’s official. I have to move out of Vermont. I have dated EVERYONE.